


For You I'll Risk It All

by Misswhoviangirl



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: A Study in Pink Spoilers, Alternate Universe - Doctor Who Fusion, Alternate Universe - Sherlock (TV) Fusion, Drama, Episode: s01e01 A Study in Pink, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Murder Mystery, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-07-27 13:03:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 15,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7619191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misswhoviangirl/pseuds/Misswhoviangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clara wants answers after Danny is found dead she knows it wasn't a suicide but no one will listen. At the same time Sherlock and John are working on a string of suspicious deaths. When Clara asks for Sherlock's help he isn't interested until he realizes the deaths are too similar to Danny's. Now if she wants to prove he was murdered she'll have to help Sherlock much to both their dismay but even Sherlock can't hide from love. Soon he and Clara start becoming very close but so does the danger and now nothing is safe, not even love.<br/>Can Sherlock solve this murder and protect the woman he loves or is this one game he's going to lose?<br/>(SherlockXClara AU) (Loosely based on "Study In Pink")</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, so this is based on the Sherlock episode 'Study In Pink' but I didn't want it to be exactly like the episode so some scenes you'll recognize and some you won't but I hope you'll like it. :)

Prologue  
"I'll be home at six, love you!"  
That was the last thing Danny said to Clara but he wasn't home yet and she was scared.  
"Maybe he couldn't find a cab or maybe the last Parent Teacher Conference ran late." She kept telling herself but she was losing hope.  
Clara sat on the couch clutching the throw pillow praying for some sign that he was alright even checking her phone for a new message but got nothing. "Where is he?" She wondered.  
Suddenly she heard a door knock and her heart dropped. Clara had a sick feeling this wasn't good.  
She reluctantly opened the door and two officers; a tall pudgy male and a medium height thin female stood there looking grim.  
They flashed their badges and the man spoke first. "Mam, I'm Sgt. Jones and this is my partner Sgt. Dawson."  
"How can I help you?" Clara said trying to keep herself and her voice steady.  
"Are you Clara Oswald?" Sgt. Dawson asked.  
Clara just nodded.  
"Do you know Danny Pink?" She asked.  
"H-he's my fiancé." Clara's voice slightly shook.  
Sgt. Jones sighed heavily. "I'm sorry to tell you this but Danny Pink was found dead late this evening."  
Clara stared at them stunned. Did she hear right? Danny dead?  
"No, y-you're wrong!" Clara blurted.  
"I'm so sorry but we're not." Sgt. Dawson replied with regret.  
Clara didn't want to believe them. "They had to be wrong!" She thought.  
But deep down she knew they weren't and felt her world ending as she fought back tears.  
"Mr. Pink was found a few miles from the school in a wooded area unresponsive. We did everything we could to revive him." He replied sadly.  
This wasn't happening. She felt her heart breaking as she hugged the door. "Please!" Clara choked back a sob.  
Her legs felt weak and she nearly collapsed; Sgt. Jones caught her in time and Clara sobbed in his arms.  
After Clara composed herself she sat in a dining room chair numb and staring at the carpet.  
Sgt. Dawson sat in front of her and began asking questions.  
"When was the last time you saw him?" Sgt. Dawson asked.  
"Today at the school; we're both teachers there."  
Sgt. Dawson nodded."How was he, today?" Clara sighed feeling drained. "He was excited, he had just gotten a raise and his cousin had a baby, yesterday." She swallowed feeling sick. How was she going to tell his family? "Did he have any enemies?" She asked.  
Clara shook her head.  
"Was he in the military?" She said carefully.  
Clara arched her eyebrow at that question. "Yes."  
"Did you notice if he ever seemed troubled or depressed?" Sgt. Jones asked.  
Her head shot up and she frowned. "Of course not, why?"  
"Well, an empty pill bottle was found near his body and we...believe Mr. Pink committed suicide."  
Clara scoffed harshly. "Seriously? I did not just hear that!"  
She sighed. "I know this is hard to understand but the evidence speaks for itself."  
Clara glared at her. "Get out!"  
"Miss Oswald, be reasonable," Sgt. Jones said.  
"We're only trying to help."  
Clara shook her head. She didn't want to hear it. "Stop just stop," She said firmly. "Don't you dare come here acting like you care then accuse my Danny of suicide!" She snapped.  
Sgt. Dawson cleared her throat. "Well, obviously you're upset so we'll be in touch."  
"Just get out." She said softly but firmly opening the door.  
As soon as they were gone she slammed the door and sank to the floor crying feeling hurt and angry.  
She glanced down at her engagement ring and kissed the delicate stone.  
They could intimidate her with theories all they wanted but Clara knew Danny did not kill himself and one day she would prove it even if it took a million years she would prove it.


	2. Chapter 2

One year later:  
Clara knelt and traced her finger over each letter of Danny's name on the headstone.  
"I miss you Danny." She sniffed.  
She smiled sadly as she laid flowers down over his grave.  
The wind was cold and she shivered; it seemed every day she came it was colder in that graveyard reminding her of her broken heart.  
Clara stood and blew a kiss at the headstone. "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"  
Clara was adjusting to her new life in a new town but the ghosts of Danny's memories seem to always haunt her.  
At night she could hear him say "Even if I'm gone from this world please don't ever be alone."  
But she wasn't ready to open her heart again but her family and friends were determined she date again.  
They even set her up on some dates but it always ended up the same an early goodnight and disappointment.  
Clara walked pass and noticed several funerals going and it gave her the chills.  
She recognized those people from the newspapers and they all had one thing in common with her their loved ones were found the same way as Danny.  
The growing number of alleged suicides had the police suspicious and were investigating the deaths as foul play except Danny's.  
Clara tried earlier that day to convince DI Lestrade to investigate his death but he told her it was out of his hands.  
Clara sighed and shoved her hands in her coat pockets when something poked her.  
"Ow!" She yelped.  
Clara felt something thin and cardboard; she pulled it out and it was a business card that read:  
Here's someone that can help you better than me, Lestrade.  
The Name Sherlock Holmes was written along with an address.  
She smiled. "Thank you DI Lestrade." Clara said softly.  
Clara stuffed the card back into her pocket and decided to pay a visit to Mr. Sherlock Holmes.  
Clara soon found herself standing in front of Sherlock's door feeling nervous.  
She took a deep breath and knocked; the door opened and a short sandy haired man answered.  
"Yes, can I help you?" He asked.  
"Um, I'm looking for Sherlock Holmes."  
"Oh?" He replied.  
"I was hoping he could help me." Clara added.  
"Well, if you're willing to take a risk; sure come on in." He said.  
She looked at him puzzled. "Thanks Mr..."  
"Watson, John Watson. I'm Sherlock's roommate." He replied.  
"Nice to meet you. I'm Clara Oswald." She said.  
Violin music could be heard playing throughout the hall; it was beautiful but loud.  
John led Clara to the living room. She was stunned to see a handsome tall brunette haired man playing violin.  
"Sherlock?" John said.  
No answer.  
"Sherlock!" He shouted.  
Sherlock kept playing.  
John rolled his eyes and tried once more.  
"SHERLOCK!" He yelled louder.  
Sherlock stopped and scowled. "What is it? I'm trying to think."  
John sighed. "This is Clara Oswald."  
He shrugged. "So?"  
"She needs your help."  
He looked at her up and down and brushed past her. "Sorry, I don't give fashion advice."  
"Sherlock!?" John hissed.  
Sherlock sighed. "Sorry. What do you want?"  
She swallowed. "I found an index card with your address in my pocket from DI Lestrade; it said you could help me."  
"With what?" He replied grabbing a nicotine patch.  
"I believe my fiancé Danny was murdered but the police keep insisting it was a suicide and won't do anything." Clara said.  
He sat on the couch and exhaled. "Sounds boring. What makes you think I want to help or even care?" Sherlock replied.  
"Because he was found the same way as the others; in an isolated area next to a tiny empty pill bottle." Clara said.  
He sighed. "Miss Oswald I'm sorry for your loss but I'm not interested."  
Clara felt deflated. "He was my last hope." She thought.  
Clara lowered her eyes. "Okay."  
She turned to leave but paused and looked back at Sherlock. "I'm not surprised. If nobody else cares why should you?"  
She then turned to John and smiled sadly. "Thanks Mr. Watson."  
John nodded. "I'll show you out Miss Oswald."  
After she left John came back scowling.  
Sherlock folded his arms. "What?" He replied defensively.  
"That girl came to you for help and you dismissed her."  
"I did not; I just told her I wasn't interested." He replied.  
"But if the circumstances are the same as the others what makes her case different?" John asked.  
He snapped his fingers. "Exactly there the same which makes it boring besides once the others are solved hers will be too."  
John shook his head. "Well, obliviously DI Lestrade made a mistake."  
"What does that mean?" Sherlock frowned.  
He plopped into a chair. "It means that he was wrong about you being able to solve it so it's best that she go to a professional." John replied.  
He frowned at John. "Wait just a minute I can solve this case way better and faster than some DI."  
"Then prove it help her." John challenged.  
Sherlock grabbed his coat and scarf. "Fine, I will."  
After finding her address Sherlock stormed out and went to talk to her.  
When he got there Sherlock heard soft crying from behind the door.  
In a rare moment a twinge of guilt crept in and he felt bad for how he treated her.  
Sherlock knocked and Clara opened it; her eyes were wet and bloodshot.  
"What do you want?" Clara huffed.  
"Hi, can I talk to you for a minute?" He smiled.  
She glared at him. "No!"  
She quickly slammed the door.  
"That went well." He muttered.  
"Please, Miss Oswald I was wrong!" Sherlock hollered through the door.  
"Go away!" She yelled.  
"But I want to help!"  
"Why?" She asked suspiciously.  
"Because I can solve it faster and better than any DI! Please?" He begged.  
After a moment of silence the door opened and Clara stood there and sighed.  
"Come on in but one smart remark and I'll slap you into your next birthday."  
Sherlock nodded. "Fair enough."  
"Oh and you can call me Clara." She said letting her expression soften as she showed him in.  
"I'm so going to get John for this." He muttered walking inside.


	3. Chapter 3

Normally Sherlock wouldn't let John talk him into apologizing to anyone much less apologizing inside their home but something intrigued him about Clara so there he was in her apartment.  
Once inside he glanced around the living room and shrugged; it was no different than any other living room he had ever seen.  
"Would you like some tea?" She asked.  
"Yes." He replied.  
She went into the kitchen giving Sherlock an opportunity to look around.  
A photo of Clara being held by a bearded young man caught his eye; she was looking at him lovingly and had an engagement ring.  
"So this is Danny." He mumbled.  
He noticed there weren't a lot of photos of her and Danny which probably indicated they weren't together long.  
Clara came back with the tea and caught Sherlock studying a photo.  
She smirked and the cups down on the table then crept up behind him. "Bit of a snooper, huh?"  
Sherlock jumped. "Sorry." He said startled.  
She peered over his shoulder. "Looking at a photo of me and Danny, yeah?"  
"Yeah, how long was he in the military?"  
"How did you know he was in the military?" Clara asked.  
"Oh, the way he stands the concentration in his eyes." Sherlock replied.  
Clara sat in her chair. "Or the fact he's wearing his army medal." She pointed out taking a sip of tea.  
He cleared his throat. "Well, that too."  
She smirked as he took his chair.  
"So what exactly do you do?" She asked setting her cup down.  
He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you're asking me questions?"  
"Yes."  
"Why don't you trust me?" He said.  
Clara shrugged. "I don't know I just met you. So what do you do?" She asked.  
He rolled his eyes. "I am a detective consultant." Sherlock replied.  
She took a sip of tea and frowned. "I've never heard of it."  
"That's because I invented it."  
"Am I supposed to be impressed?" Clara replied.  
"Some are."  
Clara smirked. "Okay, uh what does a consulting detective do?" She asked.  
Sherlock frowned. "I'm the one that DI's like Lestrade goes to when they need help." He said sitting back.  
Clara shrugged. "I'll buy it but it sounds like a nice way of saying you're unemployed."  
"Is it your mission to annoy me?" Sherlock scowled.  
She shook her head. "No, my mission is to teach children. My new hobby is to annoy you."  
He arched his eyebrow.  
"Sorry, pal but you started it." Clara said.  
Sherlock muttered under his breath. "Fine so what happened the night Danny died."  
She folded her hands and sat back in her chair; her expression was unreadable but her eyes held a lot of sadness in them.  
"Well, I was just finishing my last parent/teacher conference but Danny's was running late. I offered to wait with him but he told me to go on home and that he would catch a cab later."  
Sherlock's expressionless eyes stayed fixed on her and the engagement ring that dangled around her neck as she talked.  
"Then h-he called and said he would be home at six and that was the last I heard from him." She said.  
Clara noticed he seemed to be lost in thought.  
"Something wrong?" Clara asked.  
Sherlock ignored her question and got up to pace the floor. "And let me guess the police told you it was a suicide based on simple evidence and the fact that he was in the military."  
Clara scoffed. "Yeah but there wrong. I know Danny and he would never kill himself."  
"Of course he wouldn't." Sherlock said plainly.  
She looked at him surprised but skeptical. "So you believe me?"  
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Don't sound so surprise."  
"Sorry, you just come across as a hard person to convince."  
He shrugged. "Not always."  
Clara eyed him up and down. "So, how come you believe me?"  
"From what you've said the other deaths seem to echo Danny's' and every crime scene is similar to his. It's all too much alike for an idiot not to notice." He replied.  
"So does this mean you'll investigate?" Clara asked.  
Sherlock didn't answer and gulped down his tea then shook her hand. "Well, thank you for the tea. I'll be in touch." He quickly replied.  
Before Clara could respond he was out the door and disappeared into the crowded street.  
"Weirdo." Clara muttered closing the door.  
Sherlock dashed upstairs and burst into the living room startling John who was reading the paper.  
"Damn it, Sherlock do you have to do that?"  
He grinned. "Yes, I do because I have just arrived from Clara's'"  
John set his paper on the coffee table. "Did you apologize?"  
"Sort of." Sherlock replied pacing the floor.  
"Sort of?" He asked.  
Sherlock thought about it. "Well, probably not."  
John rubbed his eyes. "You haven't really grasped the concept of apologizing, have you?"  
"Huh?" He replied not listening.  
John waved his hand. "Never mind. Did you accept her case?"  
"Never told her." He replied sitting on the coffee table.  
John groaned. "Okay, here's an easy one what did you think of her?"  
Sherlock scoffed. "She's rude, a smart alec, stubborn, feisty and makes the worse cup of tea."  
John shrugged. "Well, you're entitled to your opinion."  
"And that's why she's perfect!" He exclaimed.  
"Sorry?" John replied.  
He hopped off the table. "When I was in her apartment I noticed she is very detailed; never missing a thing." "She was actually bold enough to try to match wits with me!" Sherlock chuckled.  
"So basically under that quiet and sweet personality is a version of you?"  
Sherlock did a so-so motion with his hand. "But more importantly I think she could help us solve these murders."  
"What!?" He exclaimed.  
"She could it."  
"But what about her case?" John asked.  
He chuckled. "Oh, I love it when I'm the only one that catches the obvious."  
John rolled his eyes. "You're ridiculous you know that, right?"  
Sherlock ignored him and paced the floor.  
"Danny's case has been forgotten, it's ancient history. So only way for her to prove Danny was murdered is for her to help us solve the other deaths." Sherlock explained.  
"Can you handle working with her?" John asked.  
He shrugged. "Of course, I can with her memory and knowledge she's almost as smart as me; not by much though but Clara has potential."  
John continued reading. "I think there's more to this than you're letting on but you do know she hates you, right?"  
But the only answer he got was the door closing; John looked up and saw Sherlock was gone.  
"Famous disappearing act." John muttered and started working on the crossword.


	4. Chapter 4

Loud door knocking woke Clara up from a deep sleep; half-awake she glanced at the clock and groaned.  
She grabbed her robe grumbling to the door as it repeatedly knocked.  
Clara bumped her toe against the leg of a chair and paused to cuss and grab her foot.  
The door knocked louder.   
"I'm coming!" She yelled.  
She opened the door to find Sherlock standing there with a blank expression. Clara wondered if he could even show emotion.  
She rested her head on the edge of the door and whimpered. "Sherlock? What the hell are you doing here?"  
"Oh, did I pick a bad time?" He asked innocently.  
Clara did her best not to strangle him. "Well, considering its 3:00 in the morning; yeah you kind of did."  
"Sorry about that but I don't have your phone number or I would've called at 2:00 A.M." He sarcastically replied.  
She leaned up against the door. "I'm sure you would, goodnight." Clara smiled sweetly and attempted to close the door but he caught it with his hand.  
"Wait, can I come in?"  
"Let me give you the same answer I would've about giving you my number; no." She replied firmly.  
"Too bad I'm coming in anyway." He said brushing past her.  
"You don't listen very well, do you?" She glared slamming the door.  
"Actually I do I'm just ignoring you." He said distracted by an odd looking antique vase sitting on the bookshelf.  
Clara groaned and grabbed him by the shoulders and said one word at a time. "What-do-you-want?"  
"Careful with the material." He replied brushing her hands off. "Anyway I have something to tell you."  
"Okay but this had better be important." She grumbled; wishing she was back in bed.  
"Of course it's important everything I say is important." He scoffed.  
Clara rolled her eyes but decided to listen. She figured the faster he have his say the quicker he leave.  
She leaned her back against the door, folded her arms and looked at him tired and unimpressed. "Alight, you have my undivided attention."  
He sensed her sarcasm but continued. "Good cause' I've decided to investigate Danny's murder."  
Her face brightened. "Really?" There was a glimmer of hope in her voice.  
But Clara still wasn't ready to trust him and her happy expression turned wary. "What's the catch?"  
Sherlock arched his eyebrow and pointed at her. "You are way too suspicious, you know that?"  
She came closer and poked him in the chest. "I know so what's the catch, fluffy-hair boy?"  
He glared at her and removed her finger. "Number one: don't poke me. Number two: yes, there is a catch."  
Clara sighed and threw her hands up. "Alright, let's have it then."  
Sherlock went to a chair and sat. "Danny's case is pretty much history. No one cares about it so the only way to ever know what happened is for you to help us solve the other murders."  
Clara couldn't believe what she just heard and gawked at him. "Sorry?"  
"You need to help us in order to solve Danny's murder." Then he moaned. "Oh, how I hate saying that!"  
She smirked. "Why cause' I do a better job?"  
Sherlock cleared his throat. "No, smarty it's because I don't usually ask for help. I never need it."  
His eyes followed her as she paced the floor processing what he just said. "So instead of going to a professional you're asking me?"  
Clara turned and waited for his answer.  
"Yes." He grunted after a minute.  
"What for?" She asked sitting in front of him.  
Sherlock groaned and moved his head back. "Look this painful enough and I don't want to go into details so just tell me if you want to do this."  
Clara thought about it. She really hated Sherlock but he was right nobody cared about Danny anymore and this really was the only way to solve his murder and get closure not just for herself but for his students and his family.  
Sherlock's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Well?" He sighed annoyed. Sherlock hated waiting.  
"Do you mind? It's a lot to think about." She huffed.  
"Your thinking is boring me." He grumbled.  
Clara scoffed. "You think everything is boring."  
Sherlock just shrugged and picked at his scarf.  
"Besides I thought about it." She replied.  
He sat up and waited for an answer.  
"I'll do it but I don't want any trouble from you while I'm teaching my class." She warned.  
Clara knew he figure out what school she taught at and the last thing she needed was the entire student body and faculty seeing him.  
Sherlock scoffed. "What kind of trouble could I possibly cause?"  
Clara peered over him. "Your very presence is enough."  
He eyed her up and down. "You don't date very much do you?"  
"Shut up." She scolded.  
"Whatever, can I go now?" He said exasperated.  
Clara moved back and went to the door and held it open. Despite her robe she felt the cool air on her bare legs and stood behind it.  
Sherlock started to walk past but Clara stopped him.  
"What?" He sighed heavily. He couldn't believe how frustrating this woman was!  
"Remember do not show up to my class until after 3:00 P.M; got it?" She said firmly.  
Clara waited but there was no answer. "Sherlock?" She said turning her head but he was gone. Clara looked out and spotted him flipping the collar of his coat and calmly walking away.  
Clara closed the door and exhaled. "I hate him." She muttered.


	5. Chapter 5

Sherlock burst through the doors of the school Clara worked at while John reluctantly followed him shaking his head.  
It was only 1:30 P.M and he'd wished Sherlock had waited till three but Sherlock hated waiting and it always had to be his way.  
"I think we should've waited." John huffed.  
"Your opinion is irrelevant." He replied calmly.  
John bit his cheek and glanced at him. "What about Clara's opinion?"  
Sherlock made a face as he looked around. "Ugh, this school's so cliché how does she stand it in here?"  
"Did you even hear me?" John scowled.  
"Yes." Sherlock replied. "And if you were paying attention you'd know where we were going."  
John was confused but didn't bother to question him. He knew he wouldn't get an answer.  
They stopped in front of an empty classroom. "What room is this?" John asked.  
John peered at the name plate on the door; it read Mr. Pink. "Sherlock, we can't be here." He protested.  
"We could get caught." John pointed out.  
He just grinned and simply held up two fake Detective I.D's and placed them back in his pocket.  
John groaned. "You're ridiculous."  
Sherlock wasn't listening and picked at the door with a paperclip. The door opened and Sherlock went in without hesitation while John paused before reluctantly going in.  
It was dark and cold in their almost like the room was in mourning for Danny. It made John nervous but Sherlock seem to love it.  
"How are we going to see in here?" John asked.  
Sherlock scoffed and simply pulled the blinds. "Seriously, John you need to learn to keep up."  
John rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath.  
They began looking around; everything was the same. Nothing had been touched. The desks were aligned with the name tags still taped to them even the students supplies were still there.  
Sherlock took his little camera and took pictures of each name. "What's that for?" John asked.  
"To talk to them of course." Sherlock muttered. He then walked around the room studying the student's artwork, unimpressed.  
Sherlock made a face at a messy drawing of a house. "Fine art it's not."  
John glanced over and shrugged. "I think it's nice."  
He lightly touched the construction paper rolling his eyes. "You would."  
Then Sherlock noticed Danny's desk up front it showed promise. He went over to investigate.  
But to his dismay it was the typical teacher's desk it had papers neatly stacked and stapled, pen holder and a metal tray.  
He picked up a framed selfie of Danny and Clara at a fun fair that was on the desk. John thought he saw a small smirk on Sherlock but didn't say anything.  
Sherlock was ready to give up when he spotted some faded marks on the worn carpet. He knelt and squinted; they appeared to be dragged shoe prints.  
He took out his small camera and took pictures of the prints. Sherlock couldn't help but smile. "Oh, I pity those that aren't as clever as me." He chuckled quietly.  
But standing up he saw it; a shiny war medal on the desk barely hiding under a folder. Sherlock pulled on his black leather glove and studied it.  
A grin spread across his face like a child with a stolen cookie jar. It was too perfect but there it was Danny's favorite medal. The same one from the photo at Clara's.  
John noticed his smile and walked towards him. "I take it you found something."  
"Hmm? No, I didn't find anything." Sherlock replied quickly putting the small medal in coat his pocket.  
John looked at him strangely but shook his head.  
"How about you?" Sherlock asked.  
John sighed. "No, not a thing." Suddenly he saw something that looked like a briefcase next to the oak desk.  
He came closer and knelt. "Sherlock you might want to come here."  
Sherlock came over to him. "What is it?"  
He glanced at him. "I believe it's his suit case."  
Sherlock frowned and read the tag on the handle. Sure enough it said Danny Pink.  
"Bit odd for a teacher to leave it behind, isn't it?" John replied.  
Sherlock wasn't listening he was in deep thought; Flashes of Danny in an empty classroom quickly fast forward to polished shoes being dragged then ending in a deserted area where his body was found.  
"Of course." He muttered. "How stupid could I be?" Sherlock scolded himself.  
John shook his shoulder. "Sherlock?" He repeated snapping him out of his thoughts.  
Instead of answering he flipped the collar of his coat and walked out room.  
"Where are we going?" John asked walking with him.  
"Clara's classroom, pay attention." He huffed.  
When they got there Clara was teaching, her hands moving about as she walked through the rows of desks.  
John sighed. "Well, looks like she's teaching. We'll have to come back in an hour."  
Sherlock raised his eyebrow. "She doesn't look busy to me."  
John started to protest but he was already knocking on her door.  
Some students noticed first and pointed and giggled at Sherlock. Clara was confused at what was distracting them and turned around.  
She gasped and turned beet red then marched to the door. "Everybody calm down and pull out something to do. I'll be back in a minute." Clara told them before closing the door behind her.  
She glared at Sherlock. "What are you doing?" Clara hissed.  
"You said we could come over." He replied calmly.  
"Yes, at three o'clock." She groaned.  
"Oh, did you? I guess I wasn't listening." Sherlock remarked.  
Clara was getting exasperated with him. "Gee, what a surprise now will you please leave?"  
"I think we should go." John insisted.  
Sherlock just kept his eyes locked on Clara. "I don't think that's a good idea, actually."  
Her eyes widen at his boldness. "Oh, really? Well, you listen to me you so"  
Before she could finish Sherlock pulled out the war medal and held it up.  
Clara swallowed. "Th-that's Danny favorite medal." She stuttered. "What are you doing with it?"  
"I found it in the classroom." Sherlock answered calmly.  
"But how? He wouldn't have left it. Danny was very careful" She replied.  
"So you knew he had with him?" John asked intrigued.  
Clara nodded. "He was going to show it to some students; they had been asking to see it."  
"Then why is it still here?" John asked.  
She shook her head stunned. "I don't know. I was told it was buried with him. Still it doesn't make sense; he would never forget it like that."  
Sherlock's face was solemn. "That's because he didn't forget it. In fact there's a possibility he never left the building."  
Clara's voice shook slightly. "What do you mean?"  
"Use your head Clara, it's like you said; he'd never forget his favorite medal so why would it be here? Think for a change. " Sherlock replied throwing his hands up.  
Frustrated Clara stomped her foot. "Just tell me what you want to tell me, damn it!"  
Sherlock sighed; he hated explaining things to people. "There's a strong possibility Danny wasn't killed in the woods."  
Clara started to put it all together and turned pale. "Y-you m-m-mean?"  
He nodded. "There's evidence that he might've been killed in his classroom."  
She gasped and placed her hand over her mouth in disbelief.  
John's eyes widen. "Are you sure?"  
"Of course I'm sure." He huffed.  
She stared at the floor shocked. Clara didn't want to believe it. Her Danny killed here in the school, the building where they met and she was standing, the classroom she passed by every day?  
Her legs felt weak and she became dizzy. "Clara are you alright?" John asked concerned. Instead of responding Clara's knees buckled and she collapsed in Sherlock's arms.


	6. Chapter 6

Clara sat on a folding chair in the hallway staring at the worn out carpet processing everything Sherlock told her.  
John had his coat around her though she really didn't want it. What good was it going to do her?  
Sherlock stood nearby completely bored. "Are we done here?" He groaned.  
"Sherlock please!" John scolded.  
"Well, I'm bored!" Sherlock grumbled. "Besides she just sitting there doing that thing with her eyes and it's annoying." He added.  
"Would you shut it?" John scowled. He turned his attention back to her.  
"Clara do you need a ride home?" He asked.  
Clara couldn't hear them. If what Sherlock was saying was true she wanted to see it for herself. She was tired of crying and was not going to let this killer win. Whoever killed Danny was not worth her tears.  
John tapped her shoulder. "Clara?"  
She pressed her lips and calmly stood. "I want you to show me."  
"What?" John replied.  
"Show me the classroom." Clara said firmly.  
John just looked at her. "Well, come on." She said walking ahead.  
Sherlock scowled. "Did just tell me what to do?"  
She looked back at him smirking. "Yes, I did. Now come on catch up."  
He grumbled but followed never catching the satisfied smirk on John's face.  
When they reached the classroom John glanced at her. "Are you sure about this?" He asked.  
Clara sighed. "Yes, just do it." She replied anxiously.  
He nodded and opened the door. Clara walked in first; it felt strange being in there and chilly.  
Clara rubbed her arms walking around. The room no longer had the warmth of Danny's presence that she was used to.  
She turned and looked at them. "Okay, other than the medal what else did you find?"  
John went to the desk. "We found this brief case."  
She went over and looked at it but shrugged. "Yeah that's his but it proves nothing."  
John frowned surprised. "Oh, how come?"  
"Because' he was always forgetting it but it didn't matter. He kept everything on his tablet." Clara explained.  
"Okay, what else?" She said standing back up.  
Sherlock motioned her over to dragged foot prints.  
Clara knelt and studied them. She swallowed. "They're his. Damn it, I knew they were wrong."  
"What do you mean?" Sherlock asked.  
"They told me it was mud but I but knew it wasn't." She said softly barely running her fingers over it.  
"How do you know?" John asked.  
"First of all the texture's too smooth to be mud; it's actually shoe polish. Danny put it on his shoes just before I left for the evening to cover up some scuff marks." She said standing back up. Clara folded her arms. "Also it wasn't raining that night." "Any idiot should've realized that." She muttered.  
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Well, that was a waste of time. I could've told you that."  
Clara arched her eyebrow and came towards him. "Before you get cocky; I would like to point out there are two sets of footprints." She poked his chest.  
Sherlock frowned. "First of all mind the material and what do you mean another set of prints?"  
She moved back and pointed at a faded set of prints. "The dragged set is brown, the other set is black. Danny wore brown shoes and judging from the black shoe prints the killer apparently uses the same brand of polish."  
"Impossible." He muttered and checked for himself. To his dismay she was right.  
He glanced at her scowling but she smiled sweetly at him. "If you were paying attention you'd would've caught that. You're cute but you need to keep up Sherlock."  
"Shut up." He muttered.  
Clara smiled. "Come along boys." She said leaving the room.  
Sherlock stood up and followed grumbling with John snickering behind him.  
He glanced over at John. "Did she say I was cute?"  
John shook his head. "Keep up Sherlock."  
Sherlock smiled a little and kept walking.  
Once outside Clara shook her head in disbelief. "I can't believe the police missed that."  
"Now, you know why they come to me." Sherlock replied simply.  
"But if it didn't rain how did the theory of mud get started?" John asked.  
Clara scoffed. "When I last talked to Danny he was outside because the reception was bad so the police figured it was raining and he got mud on his shoes and dirtied the carpet when he came inside. Plus the polish was cheap so he kept applying it and it was extremely slow drying so when he was found it was smeared and resembled mud to them."  
Sherlock shook his head chuckling. "And you wasted your time on these idiots?"  
Clara glared at him. "Contrary to what you think; yes I think there idiots but I didn't have a choice and endured a lot from them. They just saw me as the grieving naïve fiancé and didn't want to bother with me but I would've gone through hell if it meant catching Danny's killer."  
Sherlock smirked. "I was hoping you'd say that."  
She arched her eyebrow. "Why?"  
His smirked turned into a grin. "Because I just got a text from Lestrade about another murder."  
Clara looked at him suspiciously. "So?"  
"Want to come?" He asked casually tugging on his gloves.  
John gawked. "How can you ask her that? That is so tacky, inappropriate"  
She grinned. "I'd love it!" Clara interrupted making Sherlock smirk.  
"Then come along Miss Clara because the game is on!" He said happily.


	7. Chapter 7

It was already dark and cold when they arrived but standing in in front of the huge abandon dilapidated old mansion it seemed to have gotten colder.  
"Blimey." Clara muttered as they stepped out of the cab. "This place is straight out of Frankenstein's castle." She said tugging the sleeves of her blue sweater. She had now wished she'd changed into something warmer.  
Sherlock sighed. "Yes, a bit cliché for a murder." Clara smirked. "Figure you have preferences."  
He arched his eyebrow. "You're very observant." She sighed looking around. "Where's John? I thought he was meeting us here?"  
"So shall we proceed?" Sherlock said quickly flipping his coat collar.  
She eyed him strangely but before she could respond they heard a female mocking voice say. "Well, well if it isn't the freak!"  
Clara frowned at the tall thin dark skinned woman strolling up to them.  
Sherlock sighed rolling his eyes. "Sgt. Sally nice to see you again."  
"It's Sgt. Donovan and I hate it when you call me that." She shot him a glare.  
"Do you? Must not have cared enough to listen." He remarked.  
Clara suppressed a snicker.  
"Shut up, Sherlock!" She snapped then Sally noticed Clara standing nearby and smirked. "Well, what do we have here?"  
"She's my new associate." Sherlock replied simply.  
Sally scoffed. "New associate? Oh, really?" "Yes, new associate; I hate repeating myself." He replied exasperated.  
"Well, we'll just see, then." She remarked.  
She went towards her eyeing her up and down but Clara refused to be intimated. "Are you sure your boyfriend won't mind, Sherlock?" Sally sneered.  
Clara was disgusted. "Who does this woman think she is?" "You know your mind's in the gutter. John's a good friend of his as well as mine." She defended.  
Sally snickered. "Friend? Sherlock doesn't have friends."  
"Oh, I don't know he might surprise you." Clara replied folding her arms.  
Sally arched her eyebrow at Clara and chuckled. "Well, he must be paying you, then."  
Clara was unfazed and just studied Sally's face.  
She shifted uncomfortably looking at her funny. "Why are you looking at me like that?"  
Clara tilted her head thoughtfully. "Did you just say you're Sgt. Donovan?"  
"Yeah." She replied shrugging.  
"Is Nicholas Donovan your nephew?" Clara asked.  
Sally nodded. "Yeah, why?"  
She smiled sweetly and handed her a piece of paper.  
Sally looked at her strangely. "What's this?"  
Clara's expression turned serious. "It's a list of book reports your nephew never turned in."  
Sally gawked at her realizing who she was. "Oh, no you're not…"  
She nodded. "Yes, I'm Miss Oswald and please tell him I expect to see those reports on my desk by Friday." Clara added firmly.  
There were some muffled a snickers from the other officers.  
Sally turned crimson. "Why didn't you tell me who you were?" She whispered.  
Clara shrugged. "You didn't ask."  
She wanted to say something else but instead nodded and walked away scowling.  
They proceeded into the house when Sherlock pulled Clara to the side. "Why did you do that?" He asked with annoyance.  
"Do what?" She said.  
"Defended me like that?" He replied scowling.  
She rolled her eyes. "First off you're welcome and second because I get the feeling no one's ever done that for you before."  
"Well, don't do that. I don't need help less of all from you." He said firmly.  
"Oh, so it annoys you when I defend you?" Clara taunted.  
"Yes, it does." He said exasperated.  
Clara scoffed. "Good then I'll keep doing it." She brushed past him.  
He gawked at her defiance.  
"I think you finally met your match, Sherlock." Someone shouted.  
"Oh, shut up!" He grumbled going inside.  
Once inside the place was filled with forensics and police officers; a majority of them were going up and down an ancient looking spiral staircase.  
Clara found the whole thing eerie like being stuck in an old movie set gone wrong. They traveled up the creaking stairs to a dusty old room where DI Lestrade was waiting.  
"Sherlock, there you are!" He exclaimed impatiently then noticed Clara standing near the door and scowled.  
"Blimey, what is she doing here?" DI Lestrade said pointing at Clara.  
"Nice to see you, too DI." She replied sarcastically.  
Sherlock sighed heavily. "As much as I hate it I needed her help." "But she's a pest." He hissed.  
"And she can hear everything you're saying." Clara replied simply. DI Lestrade lowered his eyes clearing his throat. "Listen Miss Oswald"  
She walked up to him with her arms folded. "No, you listen this isn't just about Danny anymore. It's about all the others too cause' now you've got yourself another body found the exact same way as Danny, the teenager and the businessman. So I say you're not really in the position to refuse help from anyone even the pest."  
He looked over at Sherlock who had wandered over to a cracked window for some help. "Well?"  
Sherlock glanced at him putting something small in his pocket. "Sorry I wasn't listening."  
DI Lestrade sighed exasperated. "Fine just keep an eye on her."  
She arched her eyebrow as he brushed past her.  
Sherlock sighed putting on his leather gloves. "Okay, if we're done where's this body?"  
Clara rolled her eyes. "Not exactly the king of tact, huh?"  
Di Lestrade motioned them to follow him and pointed at a woman dressed in pink lying face down on the wood floor. "We believe she's been dead for 24 hours. We don't know her name but we're guessing it's another suicide."  
Sherlock knelt and examined the body carefully. "Why would you say something stupid like that?" "Easy genius, no signs of a struggle." Anderson chimed.  
Clara shook her head. "That doesn't necessarily mean anything." "But what about the suicide message she tried to write out?" Anderson pointed out.  
He knelt and traced his finger over the word Rache' carved on the wood floor then glanced at the splinters under the dead woman's chipped nails. Clara winced imagining her clawing at the floor.  
"Obviously, she was trying to send a message that she wanted to die." Anderson added simply.  
Sherlock scoffed at him. "Don't be stupid! I mean you expect to me to believe she tried to carve out a suicide note as she died?"  
DI Lestrade shrugged. "Well, it could've been a symbolic note might've been her name or a family member'."  
"What if this is something else?" Clara muttered. "Sorry?" Sherlock replied.  
She then walked around the body. "This may not be a suicide note but I think it's a message."  
They looked at her like she was crazy. She groaned. "Come on, think about it despite the agony she must've been going through she added more by clawing this word because she knew she was going to die and she wanted us to find her killer."  
"So why one word?" DI Lestrade asked.  
She shrugged. "Maybe her killer's name, perhaps?" Sherlock wasn't convinced. "Something still doesn't make sense." He mumbled.  
Clara then noticed her heels and the hem of her skirt were damp. "Hey, where's her suitcase?"  
"There wasn't one." Lestrade replied. She shrugged. "Okay, her purse." "Sorry, no purse." He said.  
Clara scoffed. "There has to be something, I mean look at her she was going or coming from somewhere besides there are small muddy wheel tracks along the floor."  
Sherlock knelt and traced his hand along the muddy trail. "Four wheels." He muttered. "Going and coming in the opposite direction."  
She pointed at her heels and skirt. "And her shoes and the hem of her skirt are damp but it hasn't rain here for a week so it proves she was somewhere where it rained. I think it proves she might've been a traveler."  
"Where's her cell phone?" Sherlock interjected as he stood back up.  
Lestrade shook his head. "Didn't find one."  
He looked at him like he was crazy. "Oh, come on there has to be one. Everybody has a phone especially if there traveling so why wouldn't she" Sherlock paused and a light went off in his eyes.  
He adjusted his coat collar and dashed out. "Sherlock, where you going?" Clara called out following him.  
But once outside he was gone; Clara searched around but it was like he vanished.  
Standing there she frowned. "Great not only is he an ass but he's a master at disappearing acts."  
Later Clara managed to get a ride home from one of the officers she walked up her steps and noticed her lights were off. "I thought I left those on." She wondered but shrugged it off.  
Going inside Clara turned on the light and was startled by a sickeningly sweet posh male voice behind her but it wasn't Sherlock. "Hello Miss Oswald."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi, just wanted to say I'm not that familiar with Mycroft so if I made any mistakes I apologize :) Hope you enjoy the chapter!

"Who are you?" Clara demanded still startled. The distinguished man seemed unfazed and remained sitting in her chair while a young brunette female stood there in a black slinky dress concentrating on her phone. "No need to be alarmed Miss Oswald. I can assure you I mean you no harm." He flashed her his British Government badge.  
Clara glanced at it and the girl and scoffed. "Well, considering you've got the Bond girl wannabe as your accomplice I guess I'm alright."  
The girl either didn't seem to hear her or didn't care and continued texting. "She is my assistant, Miss Oswald." He replied proudly.  
She shrugged a little. "If you say so. So again who are you and how do you know my name?"  
He smiled. "I know a lot about you Miss Clara Oswald, mid-twenties, school teacher at Coal Hill Secondary School, fiancé of the late Danny Pink, mother; Ellie Oswald deceased." The man read from a little black notebook.  
Clara tilted her head unimpressed. "So you're a stalker?" The man chuckled. "No but we have kept surveillance on you."  
She nodded. "Pervert, then?" He pressed his lips in a thin smile. "Quite the comedian, aren't you?"  
She shrugged. "Perhaps so who are you?" Now sounding a little annoyed.  
He nodded. "Very well, I'm a friend of Sherlock's."  
Clara scoffed. "No, you're not. No, offence but I can't imagine you being Sherlock's friend." The man shrugged. "Well, I like to think of myself as a friend but unfortunately he doesn't."  
Clara noticed some family resemblance. "Is that because you could be family, perhaps?" She guessed. He smiled. "You are clever."  
She sighed. "Not really, you look like him... a little." Clara folded her arms. "So what did you want Mr.?"  
"Oh, where are my manners? The name's Mycroft Holmes, I'm his brother." He gave a polite nod.  
Clara smiled politely pulling up a seat. "So what's this all about?"  
"I understand that you're helping Sherlock." He said clasping his hands. "Is that a problem?" She asked.  
Mycroft gave a half shrug. "Well, I wish you wouldn't but I can't stop you so I was hoping you would keep an eye on him." He replied.  
Clara chuckled. "You're joking, you are aware that he's a grown man?" Mycroft rolled his eyes. "Not always."  
"Why do I need to watch Sherlock?" She asked. He sighed. "I worry for his safety and I think he'll listen to you more than he will me."  
She looked at him strangely. "Why do you say that?" Mycroft smiled at her. "Let's just say even I was surprised."  
Clara shrugged. "Well, I'm sorry but I'm not going to be his babysitter."  
His expression turned serious. "We could find out faster." "What?" Clara replied looking at him questionably.  
"We can find Danny's killer faster." He replied. "I don't believe you." She said suspiciously. Mycroft just looked at her calmly. "I give you my word, Miss Oswald."  
"So did the police, what's your point?" Clara asked arching her eyebrow.  
Mycroft stood and smiled sweetly at her as he circled around her. "My dear you could have the closure and the justice that Danny deserves. Don't you want that?" He said in an intimidating yet gentle tone.  
She shifted in her seat. "Well, of course I do." Clara replied softly.  
"And I'm sure the money we'll pay you will" He started to say. "Money?" She interrupted.  
Mycroft nodded. "Yes, we intend to pay you for your trouble. We're aware of the house you two had been working so long to save up for. Wouldn't it be nice to finally have it?"  
Clara glared at him. "I will not compromise Danny's memory for money. This has never been about money or a house and if you think I would ever bow down to you then you're more of an ass than Sherlock." She marched over and opened the door. "Now get out."  
He shrugged. "Have it your way but I do hope you'll reconsider." Mycroft said leaving. "Out!" She ordered before slamming the door behind them. "Jerk." Clara muttered.  
The next morning Sherlock was in the living room playing the violin when John stomped in looking cross. "Sherlock?"  
Sherlock didn't respond and kept playing. "Sherlock!" He yelled. Sherlock groaned putting down his violin. "What is it, John?"  
Biting the inside of his cheek he looked at him. "Sherlock, where were you last night?" "What do you mean?" Sherlock replied innocently.  
John sighed. "I rode around on a bus for two hours before being dropped off in the outskirts of London."  
"Oh, were you? Hmm, why did you do that?" He asked moving to the couch. "Because you gave me the wrong bus schedule and I want to know why?" John asked sweetly strolling towards him.  
Sherlock folded his hands and looked at him calmly. "My dear John, how do you know that you had the right schedule and you just took the wrong bus?"  
He pressed his lips. "Because I went by the schedule you gave me, dear Sherlock. Now why did you do that?"  
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "If you're done asking stupid questions, would you like to know what happened last night." He asked. John knew he wasn't going to get an answer and plopped into a chair and sighed. "Sure, why not?"  
Sherlock smirked. "Thank you." He then wrote down a word and handed it to John. "Rache'. What's that?" He asked.  
"It's a name that was carved into the wood floor by the victim but no one knows why and there's a missing cell phone and travel suitcase." Sherlock explained.  
John shrugged. "So?"  
He scoffed standing from the couch. "So, I think there's a connection but I need to know what plus I found this." Sherlock held up a small glass pill bottle. "I believe it's the same one found near Danny's body."  
"If it is?" John replied. Sherlock shrugged pacing the room. "Then maybe we can get it analyzed. Whatever was in here obviously killed those people."  
"Well, we knew that." He pointed out. Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Yes but that stupid Lestrade didn't but with the right proof maybe he'll be convinced…which is probably unlikely."  
John smirked softly. "You really want to help Clara, don't you?" He gave him an unconvincing stern look. "Shut up."  
Just then there was a knock on the door. John looked at Sherlock. "Well?" "What?" Sherlock said.  
"The door?" He replied. "Yes, it is." Sherlock said still standing there.  
John groaned. It was obvious Sherlock wasn't going to answer it and got up. He opened the door and was surprised to see Clara. "Clara, hi!"  
She smiled. "Hi, John! Is Sherlock around?" He nodded and let her inside. Clara sighed then glanced at him strangely. "Just curious where were you yesterday?"  
John forced a smile. "Wrong bus."  
She nodded. "Been there." Clara followed John to the living room where Sherlock was now lying on the couch in deep thought.  
She peered over him. "Hi." Clara smiled. He looked up at her and groaned. "What do you want?"  
"Sherlock!" John scolded.  
Clara smirked. "Aw, didn't you miss me?" She then tilted her head thoughtfully. "You're really cute from this angle." Sherlock rolled his eyes. "And you're annoying from any angle, now what do you want?" He replied sitting up.  
She sighed plopping into a chair. "Well, I got a visit from your brother." He glanced at her. "How do you know it was my brother?"  
John scoffed from behind his newspaper. "Probably because he was arrogant, annoying and had an ego." He simply nodded. "Sounds like my brother." Sherlock sighed folding his hands. "What did Mycroft want?"  
Clara picked at a loose thread on the arm rest. "He offered me money to keep an eye on you."  
He scoffed. "I'll bet." "I didn't even know you had a brother." John said surprised.  
"Yes, I have a brother, why wouldn't I." He remarked. Clara glanced at him. "Seems like he doesn't trust you. "Of course he doesn't so now that that's settled any ideas to what Rache' means?" He replied going over to the window.  
She shrugged. "I still say it could be the name of her killer." "That's too easy." He scoffed.  
"Maybe Rache' isn't Rache'." John pointed out. "Then what is it?" She said.  
"Rachel." Sherlock interjected. He looked at them both like they were idiots. "Of course it's Rachel. She was trying to carve out Rachel but never finished."  
Clara shrugged. "Well, that's great but we still don't know why." She then sighed. "There must be a reason why she or anyone would do that but what?"  
John shook his head. "Well, I don't know but I've got to go today's my first day at the medical clinic." Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Work how boring." Clara just smirked.  
He made a sour face at him as he stood and grabbed his medical bag then said goodbye to them both and left.  
Sherlock glanced behind him and noticed Clara was still there. "Don't you have to go to work?"  
She shrugged. "Today's Saturday. Is it okay if I stay here?" He shrugged and continued to look out the window. Clara stood and slowly went towards him. She leaned against the wall beside him.  
"I didn't, you know." She said. "Didn't what?" He replied. "I didn't take the money." Clara said trying to read his face.  
Sherlock shrugged. "I wasn't even thinking that." She wasn't convinced but nodded. "Okay just thought you should know." Clara followed his gaze out the window watching the busy street. He looked at her. "How much was Mycroft going to pay you?"  
"Well, somehow he discovered there was this house that Danny and I were interested in buying but on a teacher's salary we didn't have enough so we started saving for it but Mycroft offered the money that would cover the down payment." She explained.  
"Not that it matters but why didn't you take it?" He asked. Clara shrugged. "Well, I already deal with kids everyday why add one more." She teased. Sherlock just grunted. "Besides what good is that house without Danny?" She added softly.  
Sherlock scoffed. "You're a very depressing person, you know that?" She smirked and tapped his arm. "I learn from the best." Clara then reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. "Before I forget I got the lab results from one of the victim's autopsy. Apparently they found a pill and it was the only one in his system. May have been what killed him and the others according to the coroner."  
She handed it to him. Sherlock arched his eyebrow. "How did you get this?" Clara smiled. "During this ordeal I befriended a coroner name Molly Hooper; she's a very nice person."  
He grinned. "Keep this up Clara and I may start actually liking you." She playfully rolled her eyes. "I'm touched." Sherlock read it and frowned. "Hmm, I can't pronounce half this stuff."  
"Well, if it helps I've got a friend that's a pharmacist. He's quite the expert." Clara replied.  
"Could he analyze this list?" He asked. She smirked. "Easily."  
Sherlock's eyes danced as he looked at her. "Tell me Miss Oswald fancy a visit to that friend of yours'?"  
She sighed. "Well, he's at work, right now."  
He nodded tapping the paper against his palm. "Yes, probably very busy." "Yeah, Saturdays are their busiest." Clara replied.  
Sherlock glanced at her smirking. "Is that a yes?" She grinned. "Oh, definitely!"


	9. Chapter 9

"Busy, great." Sherlock grunted as they walked into the crowded pharmacy. "I told you it would be." She replied looking for her friend. "You wait here, okay? I'll go get him." She said.  
He rolled his eyes. "I'm not a child." Clara smirked. "Just behave, okay?" She playfully warned before leaving him in the middle of the cold and cough medicine aisle.  
Sherlock sighed looking through the products unimpressed. A few minutes later he spotted Clara motioning him over next to a tall, thin grey haired man. The man was old enough to be her father.  
He walked over to them forcing a smile. "Sherlock, this is my friend Peter Smith." Clara grinned.  
"Nice, to meet you Sherlock I'm so glad Clara's dating again." Peter said with a friendly Scottish accent. "Oh, no he's not my boyfriend." Clara quickly corrected.  
Sherlock nodded. "Yes, it should be fairly obvious." "Absolutely." She agreed. "I mean after all she's too short, has a tiny nose and she's bossy." He rambled. Clara glared at him and lightly slapped his stomach. "Oi'!" He frowned.  
"Okay, if you say so." Peter smirked unconvinced. Sherlock cleared his throat. "So can you help us?" He asked handing him the results. Peter studied it for a second before answering. "Sure let's step into the back."  
They all stepped into the back office which looked more like an employee lounge and sat at a wobbly table. "Charming." Sherlock grunted.  
She shot him a warning look. "What?" He replied. Clara rolled her eyes and looked at Peter.  
"So what did you find out?" Clara asked. He sighed. "Well, there's not much to say, really." "Okay, that was a waste of time." Sherlock remarked standing up. "Sit." She scowled at him.  
He rolled his eyes and sat back down. "Go on." She told Peter.  
Peter shook his head. "It's pretty basic. Only four poisons."  
Sherlock nodded. "Such as?" He removed his glasses and counted them off on his hand. "Arsenic, hemlock, LSD and bug spray however it was mixed together in common yet harmless ingredients, probably to try to fool investigators."  
"Hmm, quite the amateur killer," Sherlock muttered. "But why would anyone use LSD?" He asked intrigued.  
He sighed. "Well, maybe to get some of them to hallucinate to the point where they would kill themselves."  
"And if they didn't then the other three would finish the job?" He guessed. Peter just nodded. "My god." She whispered. Clara closed her eyes as her heart jumped to her throat imagining Danny's suffering.  
Sherlock noticed but kept talking. "So is it possible it was made by an amateur as supposed to a scientist or pill maker?"  
"Possibly or at least someone who over thinks things considering they only needed two of these substances to make it work." Peter replied. "Yes but judging from the ingredients it sounds like they were in a hurry." Sherlock pointed out.  
Peter gave a shrug. "Not necessarily, I imagine every person's reaction was different."  
"How could they even get this stuff?" She asked in disbelief. He shrugged. "I don't know but the bug spray you can get anywhere." Clara swallowed. "Like from places like here, then?" He sighed. "I would like to lie and say no but… it's possible, yes."  
The horrible thought she could be sitting in a store where a product was purchased to kill Danny sent chills through Clara.  
Sherlock briefly glanced at her concerned then turned back at Peter. "But why go through all that trouble and time with a pill?" Peter placed the list down and clasped his hands. "Like you just said obviously the killer might've wanted to be thorough; my guess is they wanted to kill their victims by any means possible without being detected."  
"Unfortunately, we still don't know why." Clara said grimly. "Sorry, can't help ya' there." He sighed.  
Sherlock gave a nonchalant half shrug and grunted unimpressed.  
She looked at him strangely. Was he enjoying this? "What now?" He frowned noticing the look on her face. "Are you serious?" She hissed.  
He just ignored her and continued talking to Peter. "So can you give an estimated time it would take for a victim to die from this pill?" Sherlock asked.  
That was it Clara didn't want to hear anymore. She suddenly felt sick and quickly stood from her seat. "Excuse me." She dashed out of the room. Sherlock sighed exasperated. "Hang on, we'll be back." He said leaving to find her.  
Clara was outside leaning against the store's concrete wall staring at the sidewalk. She couldn't believe his nonchalant reaction. "Made it sound like he was asking for a cup of tea." She grumbled under her breath.  
Suddenly she heard Sherlock's voice. "Clara?" "What?" She muttered turning away. Sherlock knew that unhappy tone. "Just wanted to see if you were alright." He shrugged.  
Clara scoffed moving away from him. "Funny that coming from you."  
He threw his arms up. "What did I do?" Sherlock replied offended. She rolled her eyes. "Oh, please! Estimated guess on how long it took a person to die?"  
Sherlock groaned. "I had to know! You have a better way to figure out the victim's timeline?"  
Clara glared at him. "You do realize that my fiance' was a victim too, right and I have to hear this...or do you even give a damn?"  
"What is that supposed to mean?" He scoffed folding his arms. She shot him a look. "You enjoy this sort of thing, don't you?"  
"No!" He replied unconvincingly. "Try again." Clara said skeptical folding her arms.  
Sherlock groaned. "Okay, fine, just a little but look I'm trying to help you and believe it or not I may be a fully functioning sociopath but I have the ability to care, you know?" He exclaimed exasperated.  
She wanted to yell at him but instead started snickering. "I'm sorry but that's the dumbest thing I ever heard you say."  
"Well, it's true." Sherlock insisted. Clara studied him and shrugged. Okay, I might believe you."  
Sherlock scoffed. "Gee, thanks." She sighed shaking her head. "I'm sorry but sometimes you do act a little too excited." He shrugged staring at his feet. "Yeah, well, you're not the first person's that's ever thought that." Sherlock replied softly. He leaned back against the wall.  
Though his face didn't show it Clara could see the hurt in his eye and suddenly felt bad for snapping at him but before she could apologize there was a loud piercing scream from the building across the street. "What the hell was that?" Clara asked.  
"He fell, he just fell!" A woman shouted as a crowd gathered.  
Sherlock grinned. "Oh, it's Christmas, now!" Before she could respond he grabbed her hand and they dashed across the street.


	10. Chapter 10

Sherlock and Clara rushed to the building; an abandoned parking garage. It was crazy; passerby's, police and yellow police tape surrounded a small area around the victim. "Blimey," Sherlock scoffed at the curious crowd. "You'd think people have never seen a dead body, before." Clara struggled to see over the crowd. "I can't see." She muttered wishing she was tall.  
He rolled his eyes and sighed. "Come on." Sherlock took her hand and made their way through. They were about to go under the tape when SGT. Sally stopped them. "Hang on; you know you two can't be here." She said firmly.  
Unfazed Clara shrugged her shoulder. "Yeah, but you know we're not going to leave, anyway," She looked over at Sherlock. "Are we?" "No, don't think so." He nodded in agreement. Clara smiled sweetly at her. "See how easy that was?" She remarked as they simply brushed past her.  
They stopped at the body, a man in a rich business suit lying on his back on some broken glass and blood splatters, his glassy eyes staring at the sky. Clara shuddered. He was no older than her father, she realized.  
"He wasn't supposed to be here." He muttered to himself. She glanced up at him. "What do you mean?" Sherlock pointed along the man's suit. "Look at his clothes, look where he is and there are no office buildings anywhere nearby." "So he might've been taken here?" Clara guessed.  
Sherlock nodded then studied the body carefully then looked up at the direction where he fell. "And I have a hunch judging from how he landed and the shock in his eyes he either fell or was pushed."  
She noticed something clutched in his hand. "Sherlock." She pointed.  
He knelt and retrieved carefully a tiny glass bottle, the same type found by the other victims but this had a pill inside. Sherlock grinned. "Oh, this is too easy." "Do you think they'll believe us, now?" Clara asked crouching beside him.  
He held up the bottle studying it. "Probably not." "Blimey, you two, again," DI Lestrade shouted exasperated. Clara rolled her eyes and stood to face him. "What are you even… you know what," He shook his head. "Never mind." Lestrade scoffed. "But I have had it with your meddling." He scolded.  
"And I've had it with you," Clara snapped. "Now we have found a glass bottle in that man's hand with a pill inside, it's the same one found near every victim." She reached into her pocket pulling out the medical results. She shoved both items in his hand. "This shows every lethal drug inside those pills," Clara said. She then smiled at him sweetly. "Now read this in good health, wise up and have a nice day."  
Before he could respond she stormed off. Sherlock just cleared his throat awkwardly and followed her.  
"Well, that was interesting." He remarked. She glared at him. "Don't start." Sherlock gently grabbed her arm stopping her. "What's wrong?"  
She folded her arms and exhaled. "Nothing just…that dead man reminded me of my father." "Ask a silly question," He muttered then looked at her. "Did you really think this was going to be easy?"  
"Why do I bother with you?" Clara scoffed. Sherlock shrugged. "Because right now I'm the only one who's on your side."  
She sighed running her hands through her hair. "You know what? This is depressing." Clara looked at him studying him a minute. "Come on." She said walking away. He muttered his breath; he hated being told what to do but he followed her, anyway.  
After a while he let out a sigh like he was bored. "Okay, I give up where are we going?" He asked. "Torchwood Park's Clubhouse." She replied turning a corner. Sherlock frowned. "They're closed." They stopped behind a grey huge building. "Not for me." She shrugged.  
He smirked at her bold attitude impressed. Clara knelt and began picking the lock with a hairpin unlocking the door and glanced up at him expecting him to go in with her. "Well?"  
"You're joking?" He replied calling her bluff. "Come on," She said. "It's okay, they don't have video cameras." Clara added walking into the dark building.  
Curious, Sherlock followed her inside. They came upon a large pool. He nodded. "Okay, now what?"  
Clara scoffed switching on the florescent light. "Seriously, you haven't guessed?" She said taking off her jacket and shoes. She unbuttoned her blue and floral dress and his eyes widen. "What are you doing?" He exclaimed in shock as she removed her stockings and pulled down her dress revealing a white sleek satin slip. "It's called swimming." She replied simply.  
Clara glanced at him as he gawked at her. She rolled her eyes. "Close your mouth before you let the flies in." She remarked before jumping into the pool. He immediately shut his mouth scowling. She came back up from under the water; her brown hair soaked and looked at him waiting. "Well?" Sherlock shook his head and sat on the tile floor near the pool with his back against the wall. "I'm staying out here."  
Clara smirked as she floated on her back. "As you wish." "Do you do this often," He asked with some sarcasm. "I mean sneak into buildings for an afternoon dip?" She sighed moving her arms a little letting the water soothe her. "Oh, every now and then."  
Sherlock nodded trying not to stare at the sheer slip clinging to her petite curves from under the water. His cheeks reddened and he cleared his throat. "So did you and Danny swim a lot?" Clara shook her head. "No, I started swimming shortly after he died to relieve stress."  
He studied her as she gracefully swam past. "You have friends and family you could've talked to somebody."  
Yeah," She replied. "But every conversation I have would always end with somebody telling me, 'Why don't you just go out and have some fun.'" She grunted. Clara sighed, swimming backwards past Sherlock. "I didn't want to have fun. I wanted Danny back." She muttered as she stopped pulling herself out; her slip was now very sheer almost see-through and clinging to her wet body making him blush and turn his crimson face. She was absolutely beautiful but there was no way he was going to admit that.  
He quickly handed her a large white towel. "Thanks." Clara smiled wrapping it around herself. She sat beside him tucking her knees under her chin. He tilted his head at her curious. "How did you meet Danny, anyway?"  
Clara smiled thoughtfully. "I met him during the job interview; we were both up for the same job position, Math and Art's teacher." She replied. Sherlock smirked. "You were competing?" "Yeah," Clara nodded. "But he ended up getting the math and art teacher's job and I got English and History."  
"I bet you were ticked." He remarked. She shrugged. "Oh, I was but he was cute and charming so I gave him a chance." "How romantic." Sherlock muttered. She smirked playfully ruffling his hair.  
"Oi'!" He scowled but ended up smirking while dodging her wet hand. Clara looked at him thoughtfully. "Have you ever been in love?"  
Sherlock shrugged. "If I have I probably didn't notice." "Fair enough." She nodded.  
After about a minute Sherlock glanced at her. "You ready?" Clara nodded and finished drying off before getting dressed, again. "So had fun?" He commented as they left the building. She smirked balancing herself against a telephone poll as she put her shoes on. "More than you do I bet." "What does that mean?" He scoffed.  
"When was the last time you did anything fun or crazy?" Clara asked looking up at him. He arched his eyebrow coming closer. "You know I'm not going to tell you, right?" She shrugged tilting her head. "I know. There's a lot you don't tell me about yourself." Clara replied studying him. For some reason her words stung a little. He just lowered his eyes unsure how to answer.  
She glanced at her watch. "It's getting late, I've got papers to grade," She smiled slightly at him. "I'll see ya' later." Sherlock nodded and watched her walk away. Just then his cellphone rang; he frowned looking down at it. It was a text but there was no name.  
Curious he read it. The message was simple yet angry; 'I'm watching you, stay out of my way!'


	11. Chapter 11

Sherlock didn't tell John about the text message, he saw no point and he really wasn't worried. He was positive it was just Sally being annoying. But he was never good about deleting texts so when John had to borrow his phone he saw the message, anyway.  
"Sherlock, what's this?" He said walking into the living room where Sherlock was lying on his back on the couch calmly meditating. "I believe it's a phone." He remarked.  
John rolled his eyes. "A phone with a threatening message on it." "Is it really?" He commented. "Why didn't you tell me?" John asked. Sherlock sighed. "Seriously, John, when have you known me to ever tell you anything?" He replied nonchalantly. John just shook his head. Why did he even bother?

Sherlock sat up rolling up his sleeves placing a nicotine patch on his arm. "Besides it wasn't from the killer." John folded his arms. "Oh, who was it from?"  
He briefly glanced at his phone and made a face. "Judging from the all caps I'd say Sally." John shook his head. "Does Clara know?"  
Before he could respond they heard Clara entering the room. "Know what?" Clara asked looking at them both.

"Sherlock got a threatening text." John said. Sherlock rolled his eyes. Clara nodded. "Okay." She said unfazed.  
"Okay?" Sherlock scowled at her tone. "You make it sound like I get these all the time." "Do you?" She replied curious. Sherlock muttered something that sounded like 'Shut up' and scowled like a two year old making her snicker. John chuckled. "Well, I'm going to work." He said picking up his bag and leaving.  
Clara said bye to John then looked at Sherlock. "So a threatening text?" She said now with some concern.  
"Oh, I wouldn't worry it's only from Sally." He grunted. "How do you know?" Clara asked. "Easy," Sherlock replied simply. "All her texts to me come in all caps."

Clara giggled then studied Sherlock who seem to be in deep thought. She noticed he was wearing two nicotine patches.  
"Okay, what is it?" She asked. Sherlock glanced at her. "What do you mean?" She smirked. "You're wearing two patches." He shrugged. "So?" "So," She replied folding her arms. "That means something's either wrong or you're thinking. So which is it?"

He suddenly stood and looked at her. For once he was having second thoughts about that text and doubting his ability to keep her safe. "Do you feel safe?"  
"Huh?" She said surprised by his question. "Do you feel safe with me?" Sherlock asked sincerely. "It's a simple yes or no." "Yes, I do." Clara replied confidently.  
He looked at her surprised. "Really?" "You sound surprised." She said. Sherlock shrugged. "Well, I am to be honest." She nudged his arm. "Don't sell yourself so short."  
Sherlock suppressed a smile but she could see the smile in his eyes. It was almost hypnotic. She couldn't help but notice the flecks of gold in his blue colored eyes staring into hers.

He cleared his throat snapping her out of her daydream. "Anyway, what brings you here?" Clara sighed. "I got a call from DI Lestrade."  
Sherlock sighed like he was bored already. "Did you?" He replied uninterested and started walking around the room. Clara scoffed. "Aren't you interested?" She said. "Not particularly," He replied still looking. "Have you seen my violin?" Sherlock frowned searching beside the couch.  
He caught Clara folding her arms giving him a warning look. Sherlock took the hint and nodded and plopped onto the couch. "Alright, what did he want?"

"Well, it seems the lady in pink was Jennifer Wilson." She said. Sherlock sighed picking at a loose thread on the arm of the couch. "Not interested." "They also found records indicating she had a cellphone." She added.  
He scoffed. "It amazes me how people survive not being as smart as me." She smirked at his comment. "Well, it's true," He shrugged. "Now we just need to find that cellphone." He muttered more to himself.

He noticed her tugging her fingers looking like she wanted to say something else. "What?" He said. She sighed. "Well, I was just thinking maybe Rachel is a password." He looked at her intrigued. "Oh?" Clara nodded. "Yeah, I mean why not, phones have passwords, right? Maybe it was a password for her phone."  
"What makes you think that?" He asked. "Why else go through all that trouble?" Clara pointed out.

Sherlock thought about it and grinned. It made sense. He slowly stood and wagged his finger. "Oh, Clara, you are good!" Clara blushed.  
Sherlock sighed. "But a password for what? Something has to be on that phone for her to give us just a password."  
Clara nodded. "Well, while you figure out the case of the mystery phone I've got essays to grade." "Ugh, sounds boring." He commented. She just chuckled. "I'll see ya' later."

Some disappointment suddenly filled him as she started to go. Suddenly Sherlock stopped her. "Uh, Clara?" He blurted.  
She paused and looked at him. "Yeah?" Sherlock cleared his throat nervously. "Um, I'm assuming you eat, right?" Clara nodded. "Yes, I eat in fact I ate breakfast this morning." She remarked. He grunted ignoring her comment. "Yeah, well, if you're not busy tonight would you…" His sentence trailed. Butterflies were jumping in his stomach like he was nervous.  
Clara looked at him and waved her hand for him to continue. "Would I what?" He turned his head and muttered something but she didn't hear it. "Sorry?"  
He sighed. He hated feeling awkward. "Would you have dinner with me, tonight?"

She smirked. Clara couldn't believe her ears. Did Sherlock Holmes ask her out? "You're asking me to go out with you?" Clara said trying to clarify. "Yes, err, no I mean..." Sherlock replied flustered. "As a friend."  
Clara studied him a minute. "At a restaurant, right? We will be going to a normal restaurant." She replied. Sherlock scoffed folding his arms. "Of course a normal restaurant. Where else would we go?"

She shrugged. "Don't know after seeing your fridge anything's possible with you." "Thanks," He scowled then slowly glanced at her. "So you want to go or not?"  
Clara smiled. "Sure, I love to go to dinner with you." "Good." He replied. "Good," She smiled. "I'll see ya' tonight." She said leaving.  
The door closed and a slow smile formed on his face.


	12. Chapter 12

"I don't like this." John scowled.

Sherlock glanced at him from his menu. "What's the matter?" He sighed.

"Isn't it obvious?" He grumbled at Sherlock as they waited for Clara. John looked around the fancy restaurant with its polished black wood tables and chairs, low light and crystal chandeliers, feeling extremely awkward. He still couldn't believe he allowed Sherlock to drag him along on this date but here he was.

"I see no problem." Sherlock replied simply.

John shook his head. "Sherlock, one of the rules of dating is you don't bring along your roommates."

"What's wrong with me inviting you along?" He frowned.

John looked at him like he had two heads. "You haven't quite grasped this whole dating thing have you?"

Sherlock ignored him and continued to look through his menu pretending not to hear him but deep down he was nervous, him Sherlock Holmes. He shouldn't have been but he was. He never really dated much and he needed John there for moral support but he would never tell him that. Just then they heard Clara approaching.

"Hi, sorry I'm late I..." She noticed John and smiled slightly surprised. "John, hi!" She said.

John just gave an awkward wave wishing he could hide. "Hi."

Clara sat beside Sherlock and glanced at him questionably. It was obvious she had anticipated being alone with Sherlock. "Uh, Sherlock?"

"Oh, John was just so lonely I just couldn't leave him at him home." Sherlock replied simply.

"I was not lonely!" John scowled.

Clara felt the table jolt a little and noticed John holding his leg and wincing in pain after feeling Sherlock's kick.

"Are you alright?" She asked.

John gritted his teeth and nodded. He glared at Sherlock. "Oh, yes just fine."

"Okay, then," She replied nodding looking at them both strangely and started looking through her menu. "Anyway sorry I'm late I was…"

"Trying to catch a cab but had to take the late bus." Sherlock finished for her.

Clara looked at him. "Yeah, how did you know?"

He placed his menu down and studied her. "Well, judging from the slightly wrinkled clothes obviously you were standing in a crowded bus."

"Well, yeah." She admitted slightly embarrassed.

"But you look lovely," John quickly added. "Doesn't she look nice?" He said to Sherlock.

Sherlock looked at her black dress and violet jacket, her lips were pale pink and there was a hint of blush on her cheeks. She was stunning but he just nodded feeling slightly nervous again. "Yes, you're not as pale as you usually are." He replied quickly.

Clara frowned. "Gee thanks." She grunted.

"Well, you aren't." He said.

John just rolled his eyes.

Soon a waiter came to take their orders. "Do we know what we want, yet?" The older man smiled.

Before Clara could answer Sherlock interrupted. "Yes, she'll have the poached salmon with rice, he'll have the grilled steak and potatoes and I'll have the stuffed chicken."

The waiter slowly glanced at Clara and John not sure how to respond. They just nodded slowly and smiled politely handing him their menus. Clara then glared at Sherlock and slapped his arm.

"Ow," He scowled. "What was that for?"

She scoffed. "I can speak for myself."

He nodded completely clueless. "I know." Sherlock replied rubbing his arm.

She sighed. "I mean I don't need you to order for me."

"What? That's what you were going to order, right?" He said defensively.

There was no point in arguing and Clara shook her head. He wasn't getting it. "Never mind." She took a sip of water. She was beginning to wonder why she agreed to this.

John sat there feeling uncomfortable. He watched Sherlock, catching him periodically glancing at Clara. He could tell that he liked her. It didn't take a genius to see that. He   
just needed a little push that was all.

Suddenly he had an idea, he looked down at his phone and declared. "Oh, I need to go," John said standing up. "A patient needs me."

Sherlock arched his eyebrow unconvinced. "Oh?"

John nodded. "Yeah, sorry." He apologized.

"Must be telepathic." Sherlock replied smirking.

"Sorry?" John said putting on his jacket.

Sherlock pointed at his phone. "Your phone's off."

Clara smirked realizing what John was doing.

He cleared his throat realizing his mistake. "Well, I really need to go."

He excused himself and then left leaving the two alone in awkward silence.

"Well," Clara sighed resting her arms on the table. "This evening certainly has been interesting. Don't think I ever had a chaperone on a date before." She remarked.

Sherlock lowered his eyes. "Sorry."

She just grunted.

After a brief pregnant pause he glanced at her. She did look pretty. "You look nice." He said.

"Thanks." Clara muttered resting her chin in her hand.

"No, I mean it," He said sincerely. "You do."

A slow smile spread across her face. "Really?" Clara replied.

"Yeah." He said.

She smiled.

He glanced at her. He could get lost in her smile, Sherlock realized then nervously cleared his throat. "So I was thinking of possible locations of that suitcase and I…"

Clara placed her hand on his gently stopping him. "Let's not talk about the case, yeah?"

"Oh," He frowned. "What do we talk about?"

Clara shrugged gently touching his fingers. "I don't care. I just like being around you." And it was true she did. She liked being with him.

Sherlock smirked. "Even though I know what you want to order before you can say it?"

"Well, we can work on that." She smiled making him feel at ease.

Before he could respond Sherlock felt his phone vibrate. He groaned under his breath and checked. It was a text from John. He frowned and read it.

It said; 'Sherlock, Lestrade is in our flat with a search warrant. Get down here, now!'

His eyes widen in panic.

"What's wrong?" Clara asked.

"I've got to go." He said quickly standing.

"What is it?" She replied.

He couldn't tell her the cops were searching his flat and said. "I just need to go." Sherlock replied slightly annoyed but more at Lestrade than at Clara. He looked at her with regret. "I'm sorry."

"But…" She started to say but he was already gone leaving her alone and hurt.

The night had been a disaster.


	13. Chapter 13

When Sherlock arrived at his flat there were policemen everywhere searching through drawers and cabinets. He scowled at John as he removed his coat. "Why did you let them in?"

"They said they had a search warrant," John replied. Sherlock scowled at him. He scoffed. "What was I going to do, leave them outside?"

"Would've been helpful," Sherlock remarked going over to Lestrade who was peering behind the couch. "Lestrade!" He shouted.

Lestrade glanced up and smiled standing. "Ah, Sherlock, nice of you to join us."

"What the hell is going on here?" He scowled.

"Just a friendly search, Sherlock, no worries." Lestrade smiled.

"You mean you're spying on me, again." He remarked folding his arms.

"Again," John frowned. "You've been through this before?"

Sherlock sighed heavily. "Yes, it's a hobby of theirs to snoop on me." "Make sure I'm behaving myself!" He remarked loudly. Lestrade just ignored his comment and kept looking.

John watched as they went through shelves, peering under furniture and peeking through books. "What are you looking for anyway?" He asked Lestrade.

"Oh," Lestrade replied looking under a coffee table. "Hidden evidence, stolen lab equipment, that sort of thing."

Sherlock scoffed offended. "Borrowed not stolen!"

John shook his head then noticed Clara wasn't with him. "Where's Clara?"

"I don't know," He replied quickly. Sherlock didn't to talk about what had happened and turned towards the kitchen he noticed Anderson inspecting a jar from the microwave and making a face. "Put those back!" Sherlock ordered.

"Dear lord, they're eyes!" He exclaimed.

Sherlock scoffed. "It was an experiment!"

John looked at him. "What, you left her at the restaurant?"

"I'm sure she's fine." Sherlock clumsily answered.

"You actually left her?" John scoffed.

"I had no choice." He replied trying to justify it.

"You're an idiot." John muttered.

Before Sherlock could respond Sally called out in disgust from the kitchen. "Ugh, is that a head in your fridge?"

He scowled. "Don't touch that fridge, Sally!" Sherlock shouted moving past John to close the fridge.

John continued to look at him with disapproval.

Sherlock knew what he was thinking and sighed. "I am fully aware that I messed up but what was I going to say, 'Sorry Clara, I've got to go the police are searching my house.'?"

"That would've helped." John remarked.

Sally scoffed as she walked by. "Figures you to mess up on a date."

Sherlock glared at her. "Do you mind?"

Sally just smirked and continued past him.

John shook his head. "Sherlock, answer me this do you even like Clara?"

Sherlock paused, did he like her? Of course he did. Clara was beautiful, brilliant and brave and the only girl that was willing to put up with him and never judged him and…he just left her behind. Dread filled up inside him as the realization of what he did finally hit him and he briefly closed in his eyes in regret. What had he done? He had to fix this.

"Sherlock?" John said snapping him back to reality.

Instead of answering he turned and grabbed his coat off the rack.

"Where you going?" John asked.

"I've got to go." Sherlock said leaving. "Make sure they don't touch my stuff." He added walking out.  
________________________________________  
Sherlock knew Clara wouldn't be at the restaurant so he raced to her house. He started knocking on her door. He heard footsteps and the door opening. Clara poked her head out and scowled. Sherlock was the last person she wanted to see, right now.

"What do you want?" Clara snipped.

"I want to talk." He replied.

"Well, I don't!" She replied slamming the door.

He sighed. "Please I need to talk to you!" Sherlock yelled at the door.

"Go away!" She shouted back.

"Clara, please?" He begged.

Sherlock heard a window open and Clara poked her head out, scowling. "You really don't listen do you?" She scoffed. "I want you gone!"

She glared at him but he could see the hurt in her eyes. Sherlock nodded. "I get it you're mad but please hear me out."

She sighed. "You have two minutes." She leaned over with her arms folded on the windowsill waiting for his explanation.

He nodded. "Fine, now I'm sorry about tonight but Lestrade showed up and was searching my flat and I had to go."

Clara said nothing and just looked at him. His explanation doing little to cool her anger.

Sherlock scoffed. "What don't you believe me?"

"Oh, I believe you," She remarked. "I'm just choosing not to listen to you." Clara quipped before going back inside shutting the window.

Sherlock sighed. This wasn't going to be easy. He rested his head against the door feeling deflated but he had to make her understand. "I wanted to be there." He insisted.

Clara scoffed from the other side of the door. "Could've fooled me."

Sherlock nodded feeling frustrated. "Alright, fine, I'm not a romantic. I'm not anything you thought I was going to be tonight, okay."

"It's more than that," She replied, her voice sounding soft and hurt. "It's how you acted. I never expected Casanova but I wasn't expecting a twit either." Clara remarked.

"That’s because I am a twit," Sherlock replied. "But cut me a break I've never been in love before and I don't know how to deal with these feelings…it's so new to me. But I do love you, Clara. It was always you."

That caught her attention. He loved her? Clara couldn't speak. She couldn't believe that he loved her. A slow smile spread across her face. He actually loved her.

There was an awkward moment of silence before Sherlock spoke. "Well," He said feeling silly. "I'll just go."

Suddenly the door opened. "Wait." Clara said.

Sherlock paused. "What?" He replied.

She came towards him on the front steps barefoot and still wearing her dress. She studied him casually. "You love me?"

He nodded. "Yes, I do." Sherlock muttered softly.

That made her heart soar. She looked at him shyly and smiled. "Well, there's a strong possibility that I do too."

He smiled slightly. "Yeah?"

She came closer. "Yes." Clara replied then stood on tip-toes and gave him a delicate kiss, her lips were so gentle and soft, it was a wonderful feeling. She smiled at him after the kiss.

Sherlock suppressed a smile as he cleared his throat. "So are we good?" He nearly squeaked.

She tilted her head thoughtfully biting her lower lip. "Mm, don't know," She gently poked his chest. "You still owe me a date."

Sherlock smiled slightly at that. He was getting a second chance? "Really?" He said hopeful.

Clara smirked. "Meet me here in twenty minutes with Chinese takeout and a bottle of wine."

He nodded. "Okay."

"And uh, no chaperone, please?" Clara added.

"No chaperone." He replied nodding.

She smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek before going back inside.

Sherlock nodded but as soon as her door closed a slow grin appeared on his face.


End file.
